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Dean and Cas didn’t speak as they drove back to the bunker, their anger saying enough to each other. When they finally got home, the couple split without a word.

An hour later, Dean was in the bunker’s kitchen when Cas walked in. The two shared a look, then immediately glanced away from each other.

Cas walked across the kitchen to the fridge when Dean said, “Just spit it out already.”

Cas wheeled to Dean and glared at him. “Why do you insist on throwing yourself away as if you don’t matter?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sorry that I risked my life to save yours.”

“That isn’t what I’m upset about Dean.” Cas sat down across from his boyfriend of only two weeks and met his eyes, their gaze burning. “What I’m upset about is that you act as if no one would care if you were dead. As if our lives are somehow more important than yours.”

“You’re certainly one to talk,” Dean snapped back. Cas flinched at Dean’s words.

With a sigh, Cas said. “I know. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. But Dean,” he leaned forward and took Dean’s hand. “Doesn’t this mean anything to you? Dean, don’t you understand what your death would do to me?”

Dean tightened his grip on Cas’ hand, running his thumb up and down. “I’m sorry,” Dean finally managed to say.

Cas leaned across the table to kiss Dean. When he pulled away, Cas said, “No more stupid self sacrifices. For both of us.”

Dean brought up Cas’ hand and kissed his hand. “Okay.” And finally, Dean allowed himself to believe that someone would truly mourn his passing.